


Marked Woman

by negannookie



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Branding, Branding/Scarification, F/M, Fluff, Graphic description of scarification, Mirror Sex, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Negan (Walking Dead), Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-01 03:44:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12147903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/negannookie/pseuds/negannookie
Summary: Negan brands his newest wife.





	Marked Woman

As I walked into Negan's sitting room, I noticed how homey it was. I looked the place over; a bear pelt rug, a cozy leather armchair, and even a warm fireplace with various trinkets and trophies on the mantle. There was a carved wooden card table, and a decently stocked liquor cabinet, vintages dating back as far as the early 1900's.

He sat cross legged in the chair, beckoning me closer as he finished his Cuban cigar. Yes, Negan enjoyed the finer things in life.

"Knees." He said abruptly. I followed orders, of course, kneeling before him. 

Lucille was propped up on the chair. The glint of her barbed wire terrified but excited me. She could be ready at a moment's notice. Negan reached a hand out to cup my bare bottom, the touch sending a shiver up my spine. His eyes were steely, and he pressed his thumb into a certain spot as he stared into the fireplace. 

He untied the bright red ascot from around his neck and shoved it in my face. It smelled of cloves and leather and musk and... Negan. 

"Bite down on it, doll."

"W-why?"

Wordlessly, he got up and withdrew something from the flames. A hot poker? No, he couldn't have that in mind, right? I began panicking internally.

"You're my wife now. I mark all my wives." Negan smirked. "Now.. bite it. We don't have all day, and I'm losing heat."

Of course I obeyed, placing the ascot in my mouth. My heart pounded as he pressed the metal to my flesh, my skin sizzling and popping like bacon on a griddle. I couldn't help but let out a long, high pitched whine, gritting my teeth around the crimson fabric. I didn't dare to scream. As horribly painful as it was, the iron only stalled for a second before it was lifted away.

I could smell the burn in the air. The scent lingered as Negan admired his handiwork, guiding me to the full length mirror. I fought the nausea back when I saw the mark. A large N was seared into my right asscheek, and looking up, I could see the Cheshire cat grin on his face. 

Tears streamed down my cheeks as he fixed up the wound, dressing and bandaging it. It was then that I noticed the shameful truth: I was dripping wet. 

"Did you like that, doll? Did you like getting the iron?" 

"Y-yes, Negan." I nodded shyly. He was already parting the lips of my soaking wet pussy with two rough thumbs. I melted when the pad of one grazed my clit, then drew the hood back, eliciting a gasp. Two fingers plunged into me with no warning, and I could see how needy I looked in the mirror.

When he curled his fingers upwards, that was all I could take. I watched myself contract around his two big fingers, watched myself ungluing from his touch. I curled into myself, forgetting completely the burn that made me his. My guess was that most nerves had died. Everything went white as I succumbed to the sensory overload that was Negan. The last thing I saw was his tongue running over his glistening hand. 

When I came to, I was lying in his bed, the covers pulled up to my shoulders. The pain from the brand was thudding like a toothache, and my thighs were sticky. Negan snored away peacefully, one heavy arm draped over me. Lucille rested in a holster on the nightstand, the moonlight playing on her razor sharp teeth.

I tried to stay awake and enjoy the moment. I could feel his heartbeat, steady and strong. The rise and fall his chest was relaxing me too much. My eyes grew heavy, and eventually, my breathing matched up with Negan's. I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep: the sleep of a newly marked woman.


End file.
